


April Fools

by Louis_the_Snake



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Julian Bashir and Elim Garak's Book Club, Lonely Elim Garak, M/M, Mild Angst, POV Julian Bashir, Pining Elim Garak, pranks gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29772279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louis_the_Snake/pseuds/Louis_the_Snake
Summary: The duo decide on the perfect April Fool's Prank.I have no idea why I wrote this or why I took it so seriously. Have fun!
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Kudos: 33





	April Fools

“It’s a human tradition, lies are actually acceptable one day out of the calendar, and you don’t want to help me with this one?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t quite see the fun in misleading your colleagues with no reason.” 

“Alright, mr. ‘especially the lies’, we won’t do it!” 

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t. It’s only for tomorrow, you said?” 

“That’s right.” Bashir sighed into his post-drunk glass of water, “Want to plan a schedule of events to do?” 

“Oh you just leave that to me, Doctor, I’m sure I can make an excellent schedule for us both.” 

Bashir didn’t know if he trusted Garak to plan the whole thing himself- how much did he even know about human courtship- but he did trust Garak to build a brilliant and stunning ruse. 

The next morning, Bashir received a list of places to be at specific times. He memorized it before he left his quarters to make it to the 0800 rendezvous on the promenade- just outside Garak’s shop. 

“Ah, my dear doctor! Do you have a moment before your shift?” Garak smiled broadly when he saw him and drew him closer with a gentle wave.

“Of course, Garak! What for?” Bashir scanned the area as subtly as he could. 

It was a nondescript morning save for their encounter. Everyone was opening their shops and shuffling to their shifts-or home from night shift. Garak had timed this perfectly to be the middle of transition hours, where the most eyes would catch them talking close in their own little world.

“Can’t I simply want to greet you? I have some chocolates here I thought you might like to taste before those long hours in the medbay.” Garak held up a small package. 

“Of course you can, Garak, I didn’t mean to imply-” 

“Nonsense. Here, try this! It’s human in origin I believe- highest cocoa percentage the replicator had the recipe to bar like this.” Garak held up a dark cube between two of his grey clawed fingers, offering it to Bashir. 

Bashir looked cross-eyed at the morsel for a moment, stunned, but then took it in his mouth and hummed. “A little dark for me, Garak, but it is delicious!” He licked his lips to clear the taste. 

“Oh well wonderful! I’ll have to try more human chocolates then- Denevan Chocolate still trumps it, of course.” Garak didn’t miss a beat. 

“Oh of course Garak! Thank you for sharing.” Bashir slid into a pleased grin. 

“Of course, my dear.” Garak had another set of turns for him by leaning up and kissing the middle of his forehead. 

The combined dropping of his job title and peck to his forehead had Bashir reeling. Garak had done it so fluidly, knowing exactly how to get Julian to blush and freeze in place. But that was all he did. Garak ate another chocolate cube as he stepped away to return to his shop.

Bashir felt like he had to activate each of his limbs individually for the rest of his walk to medbay.

Whatever Garak had planned was going to kill him by the end of the day. 

Rumors travelled fast and grew quickly on a station like Deep Space Nine. By mid-morning, the scene they’d made during shift change had gone from finger-feeding and a peck on the forehead to making out on the promenade. 

A few extra eyes on the window in medbay didn’t bother Bashir, but Garak had to have more trouble. Bashir was starting to regret putting him up to this. Garak didn’t need the drama, he already felt like people looked on him in fear. 

The next rendezvous was a simple lunch meeting, the same as their arrangement on thursdays. Bashir made a point to make it at exactly 1332, as was listed. 

“Ah! Doctor, late again, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I ordered your tea for you. It’s had a few minutes to cool off, but it’s still quite hot.” Garak gestured to the seat across from him.

“Thank you Garak!” Bashir made a point to grin widely as he sat and leaned forward, across the table. He moved the centerpiece to the side. 

“Tarkalean tea, double strong, double sweet. I thought about ordering some food for you, but I’m afraid I don’t know enough about human cuisine and didn’t want to disturb your diet.” 

Bashir stood and walked toward the replicator queue, but paused beside Garak. He was careful to behave like this was a complete spur of the moment decision as he leaned down and kissed the crown of his head. Garak’s hair was oily- he didn’t know why he expected it wouldn’t be, but it was remarkably, nonetheless. 

He walked on and ordered a nice sandwich. 

When he returned, Garak was grinning. Perfectly composed, he began a speech on the themes of ‘The Merchant of Venice’. Lunch felt exactly as it always was, a spar of words, save one detail: they sat closer together.

After that, the afternoon went well. Bashir felt insulated from the rumor mill, but none of his friends had yet to confront him about it. It almost seemed a waste, since everyone he really cared about had yet to be scandalized. 

The next meeting was right after his shift, again outside of Garak’s shop. 

He didn’t see Garak when he arrived, so he lingered in the area, leaning against the bulkhead. People saw him standing there, some greeted him, he waved back. He felt a little abandoned until someone slipped their hand into his- and jerked him quickly into the shop. 

“Doctor Bashir, come right this way.” Garak’s voice was in his ear before Bashir got his bearings. 

“Hello, Garak.” He felt himself grinning before he told himself to grin. 

“I have the outfit ready for our meeting tonight! Come, come, try it on.” 

Bashir winced as he realized, as he predicted, that more people were in Garak’s shop. They weren’t here to buy anything. You could tell by how they huddled and barely looked at the fabric samples. They were here to gawk at Garak. 

“What sort of outfit, Garak?” 

“It’s a surprise!” 

“I’m about to see it!” Julian laughed loudly. 

Garak pushed him into the fitting room, but didn’t remain outside. His grin dropped and he turned to a tuxedo. 

“Garak, how long have you been working on this?” Bashir hushed his voice.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s been ready for a while actually, I suspected you’d need a new one after the next secret agent program you tried, but you haven’t returned to Agent Bashir in a few weeks, have you? Please do hurry and change.” Garak matched his voice.

“With you in here?” Bashir pat on Garak’s chest.

“Yes, that is rather the point.” 

“Garak, I’m not sure how far you wanted this prank to go-” 

“Just get changed, doctor.” 

Now Julian wouldn’t call himself shy, but undressing around Garak seemed strange. He did it, of course, he’d be a fool to dismiss Garak’s plan for modesty’s sake and he wasn’t even stripping completely. He got down to his undergarments and pulled on the white undershirt quickly. 

Garak was polite and stood back, as far as was possible without disturbing the curtain- which wasn’t far, not really. He didn’t avert his eyes. 

Getting into the tuxedo was harder than getting out of his uniform, he had to step around Garak to get the sleeves on properly. Garak helped him into the coat and smoothed the back out with a smile. 

“Oh once again I have outdone myself, I think. You’d look even better in a formal Cardassian tunic, I believe.” Since he wasn’t whispering- 

“I really appreciate this, Garak. You always know what looks best, don’t you?” Bashir spoke up as well. They weren’t talking to each other, they were putting the show back on. 

Even though no one could see them, Garak was grinning. They’d ended up face-to-face, close enough to feel each other breathing. “I should be able to finish the last alterations on my own suit by our date tonight, my dear.” 

“I’ll see you then, my dear tailor.” Bashir nodded quickly. 

Garak went back to whispering, “Just wear that to head back to your quarters and get ready for our date. Better more people see you dressed for a good time than fewer.” 

“Right, see you soon.” Bashir nodded and whirled to throw the curtain open with vigor and laughter on his lips, like he’d just heard the funniest joke ever. 

He walked back to his quarters with the same level of energy. 

Back in his quarters he carefully hung the suit up and took a shower. This was going- well, not well, but without issue. Garak was the perfect choice to pretend to date. A seasoned liar and operative, a dear friend he didn’t mind being a little more touchy with, not to mention someone who knew him well enough to plan a date he might actually have fun on. 

The door chimed while he was drying off, so he pulled on some sweatpants to answer. 

“Come on.” 

O’Brien stepped into the room sheepishly. 

“I can come back later if you’re busy.”

“Not at all! I will be busy later, though, so what is it?” Bashir quickly pulled a tank top on. 

“Keiko said she heard a rumor about you and Garak, and I wanted to talk to you about it.” 

“That’s not like you.” Bashir smiled, meaning well, “Usually you’d brood over something for a few days before confronting anyone about something. You want something to drink?” Bashir could feel himself dancing about the room, his mind going a million kilometers an hour and his body needing to keep up at least a little bit. 

“This is important, Julian, look at me.” Miles spoke sternly enough to get his attention. 

“Yes?” 

“I can understand you liking men, but Garak? Really? There are a lot of good men on this station and you had to fall for the one-” Julian could see O’Brien searching for anything to say other than ‘Cardie’- “Ex-spy, current spy, liar, murderer, take your pick, Julian.” 

“Don’t worry, Miles, I know what I’m getting into.” Julian hummed. 

“Do you?”

“Yes.” With no lightness left in his tone, Julian sounded as stern as Miles had earlier, “Now, I’m gonna be late, let me get dressed, we can talk about this tomorrow.” Yes, when it was all revealed to be a prank.

“If you’re sure, Keiko wants to invite you on a double date sometime, so start convincing Garak that would be a good idea.” 

“Of course.” 

He hurried to Quark’s to be thirty minutes early for their holosuite appointment. He was dressed smartly in his suit, with his unruly hair styled immaculately. He ordered a martini from Quark and stood near the bar. 

The extra attention he got from being the focus of such potent rumors was unnerving, if a little flattering. He ate the olives first, humming. Morn was not quiet about trading rumors with a lovely bajoran woman he’d convinced to sit beside him. 

Quark leaned over the bar, “Doctor Bashir, I have to say I’ve never seen anyone take the reigns of the rumor mill quite as quickly as you and Garak have. Tell me, how long have you been dating?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t say much, Quark, you know how private Garak can be.” Julian smiled defensively. 

“Really doctor, I come prepared to make a grand entrance to take your breath away and you aren’t even looking?” Garak spoke from the entrance, approaching quickly. 

So Julian turned around quickly to appreciate Garak in period clothes. Garak was dressed smartly in a turtleneck and a trenchcoat, and he spun to show off the full outfit. Julian laughed and approached quickly to press his forehead against Garak’s. He’d seen cardassians do that before. 

“Oh, Garak, you look wonderful!” 

“You slicked your hair back!” Garak laughed back, reaching up, “I hate it!” He fussed it up. 

“Awe! That did take time you know!” 

“You look better when it’s looser.” 

Quark watched all of this, jaw agape. Either he, acquisition mastermind, had missed the chance to sell the two gifts for each other, drinks, and extra holosuite time, or this relationship- which as of now looked entirely genuine- had sprung up overnight. 

“Now, Quark, do you have any Kanar for our tailor? Or, I’m sorry, would you like something else to drink?” Bashir led Garak up to the bar slowly, back to his martini glass. 

“Whatever you’re having would be excellent, I think.” 

“Another martini then, Quark!” 

Quark scurried to the replicator, confusion apparent. 

That gave the pair time to look at each other again. Garak really did look wonderful, in all his sturdy, decorative glory. He was really something like a mosaic on a brick wall. Colorful, segmented, full of depth and intrigue, but at the same time unwelcoming, stern, and physically imposing. Bashir was struck by how much he wanted to kiss his forehead spoon thing. 

Quark returned with another Martini and set it down, “Your holosuite will be ready in twenty minutes.” 

“Thank you, Quark.” Garak spoke amicably, but his eyes didn’t leave Julian’s. 

“Well, would you like to sit here or find a seat somewhere more private?” Julian picked up his own martini. 

“I should think our regular table will suffice, my dear doctor, unless you think otherwise?” 

“That sounds delightful!” 

Julian led Garak up the spiral stairs and to their usual table, on the balcony area where everyone could see them and they could see everyone. Garak, somehow, seemed not to notice the extra attention from all sides. There, they had dinner. Neither ate slowly, so twenty minutes was more than enough time. 

Their date was fake. Entirely fake, no doubts, they’d made that clear last night.

Regardless, Julian felt loved. The attention he was getting- even if it was fake- from Garak, the attention he got to give back, the sly comments, the touting of disapproval, the intrigue of not-quite flirting falling into the certainty of a gentle peck. There was no doubt, if Garak had set out to seduce him, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. 

“Are we replaying this episode from one of my earlier sessions or did you find a new one just for me?” 

“Neither, actually, I’ve been looking into these ‘missions’ for my own purposes recently, and I found one a few weeks ago. I never intended to share it with you, but given the circumstances….” Garak tilted his head, “Or more precisely, given how much of a fan you are, I wanted to share it with you tonight.” 

“Why thank you Garak! I’m sure we’ll have an excellent time.” 

They did, actually. It was nice to forget the ruse for an hour and just be Julian Bashir, international spy, and his sidekick Garak. They played out a simple scenario in a desert region of China, saving a diplomat from certain death by ninja assassins. It was nowhere near historically or culturally accurate, but it was a nice story. 

Once you have ‘Chi’ safe from Falcone, you’re supposed to kiss her. It’s a spy program, that’s how they all end. By the end of it, though, Julian didn’t want to kiss her, and skipped the event with one of the alternate event triggers, a familial hug. 

Garak didn’t question him.

They stepped out of the holosuite laughing and clinging to each other like they’d gotten even more drunk and wild, continuing their perfect ruse together and waltzing out into the promenade’s upper level. The wide windows showed where the wormhole would be if it opened, but no ships were scheduled for quite some time, and they lingered for a moment on the crosswalk. 

“This has been an excellent evening, Garak. I’m afraid I didn’t expect such a perfect date.” He meant the whole day, the whole ruse, but Garak would know that. 

“I enjoyed myself as well, my dear. We should spend more evenings together.”

“I’d like that.” Bashir couldn’t tell where the ruse ended and where they began. It was dizzying. 

He turned to smile at Garak, to say goodnight and maybe kiss his hand, but he was stopped when Garak kissed him instead. Garak’s lips were soft, despite how stonelike his skin could feel in places. Garak’s body, leaned in close, was not as warm as a human, not as cold as a snake. The whole station seemed to have stopped spinning just so Julian could kiss Garak, and it didn’t resume until Garak pulled back. 

“Goodnight, Doctor.” 

And then Garak was gone. 

They didn’t reveal it to be a prank the next morning, or any morning after that. Two weeks went by with no one mentioning it again, save for the few lingering rumors here and there. Two weeks of returning to usual, keeping everyone healthy, and two weeks that Garak missed their lunches. 

It should’ve hurt more, maybe, that Garak was avoiding him after their fake date, but Bashir felt more like he needed time than he didn’t enjoy himself. Or maybe he was reading it wrong again. 

He packed up the suit finally, after cleaning it and letting it stare him down every night. He had to return it, after all, he hadn’t paid for it or anything and Garak needed to stay in business and it was just the nice thing to do and maybe he was making an excuse to talk to Garak but he needed to. 

He carried a plain bag with the suit folded neatly to Garak’s quarters and chimed the door. 

“Who is it?” 

“Doctor Bashir, I’ve come to return that suit you lent me.” 

“That’s quite alright, you can keep it.” 

“I insist, Garak. Let me in.” 

There was a prolonged pause.

“Come.”

So, Bashir came in. And the lights were out- or maybe they were on one percent? 

“Garak?” Bashir walked the five paces to the dinner table, thanking his perfect memory for providing a map of the room. “Are your lights out?” 

“No, I’m just resting my eyes. You’d be surprised how much they hurt after all day in human settings.” 

“I understand. Where are you?” Bashir couldn’t locate his voice in the space, maybe there was too much reverb, maybe Garak was simply being too soft-spoken. 

“I’m on my couch. I’m sure you can set the suit down and make your way out on your own.” 

“Look, Garak, I don’t care if you’re sick of me, we need to talk about our date.” Julian walked toward the couch, but found it empty. 

“Sick of you?” Garak hissed out, “Me, sick of you? What a cruel joke you’ve made, doctor.” 

“Then what is it, why have you been avoiding me?” Julian walked toward the bedroom, following the sound.

“You’re sick of me. Don’t try to tell me you’re not!” 

“What?” 

“I have spent my entire adult life avoiding growing too attached, and you- some Federaji fool- come along and ruin all of my efforts! Do you know how long it took me to come to terms with my feelings for you? You, who don’t need me, who don’t want me, and you ask me to pretend to love you! To pretend! You just assume that because I’m a liar- and I am a liar- that it won’t hurt to play-act with me. To-” 

Bashir interrupted Garak by kissing his face. It didn’t matter where, just in that general area. Somehow, he’d managed to pin Garak to the doorframe, and he could find his face because his hands were on Garak’s chest. 

“Garak it stopped being pretend very quickly. I didn’t realize how much I wanted you by my side until you were, even if it was for a game.” 

Silence overtook them once again, lingering just enough that Julian was waiting for Garak to laugh at him for falling for a clever ruse.

“Lights to ten percent.” Garak ordered calmly. 

Garak was a mess. He was probably a little drunk (pupils, skin flush, smell) and his hair was everywhere. 

Julian tucked one loose lock of hair behind Garak’s ear. 

“I’m afraid I lack the self-control I’ve become accustomed to when it comes to you, my dear.” 

“Don’t worry, Garak, the feeling is mutual.” 

“I can’t promise that I’m not lying, but you can. Swearing on something is actually meaningful to humans, isn’t it?” 

“You want me to swear I’m not lying about wanting you, then?” 

Garak nodded slowly. 

“Are you going to trust me if I swear?”

“No.”

Julian smiled, but leaned in closer. “I swear, Garak, that I love you. I don’t know what that means just yet, and I can’t promise I’ll never change my mind, but I swear I’m not lying when I say I love you and want you and want you close.” 

Garak nodded, expression scrutinizing but otherwise passive. 

“What else can I do to prove it?” 

“Don’t try to prove anything. I accept your oath.” Garak’s eyes darted to the floor. 

Bashir kissed him softly. 

For now, that was proof enough.


End file.
